


Soulmates

by Coscoskanigikwe



Category: Avengers
Genre: But Clint is perfect, Canon Typical Violence, Clint Barton/Phil Coulson - Freeform, Clint Feels, Clint can be stupid, Clint is stubborn, Clint whump, Especially in Phil's eyes, M/M, Phil whump, because let's be real my friends, phil feels, there is an age difference, there's an age difference
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-01-19
Updated: 2015-05-11
Packaged: 2018-03-08 05:07:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,255
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3196454
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Coscoskanigikwe/pseuds/Coscoskanigikwe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Soulmate AU in which they can sometimes telepathically communicate and there is a lot of angst for everyone.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Clint Is A Stubborn Asshole

_Are you ok?_

_I’m ok._

Clint didn’t really know who this person who spoke to him in his mind was or what it meant but he did know that through everything, only this voice, Phil was his name, and his brother Barney had been there for him throughout his entire life.

_Sometimes, when I see you in my dreams - I just get pretty worried, ok?_

Clint rolled his eyes. Sometimes he could see this Phil in his dreams at night and he’s known for a while that it works both ways. The other boy, Phil, was older than him by a few years - maybe Barney’s age or older, even. Clint wasn’t too sure. He’s not too good with telling that sort of thing about people. Clint being only 10 years old himself. He could take care of himself, though. Already he knew that if he worked hard, pulled his weight, and kept his nose down he wouldn’t get into too much trouble here at the circus.

_You don’t need to worry about me. I’m not a baby, you know._ Clint thought back, annoyed.

This line of communication wasn’t always open. In fact, it was rarely open at all. Clint couldn’t really tell a pattern to it yet as he had only been talking to Phil for a few years and only a few times each year. He did see Phil almost every time he slept - he supposed it was the same for Phil.

_Well you are just a kid,_ Phil said.

_Whatever. Just leave me alone, will ya? I’m trying to sleep here,_ Clint complained. And he wasn’t lying. He was currently huddled up in one of the horse stalls trying to steal the horse’s - Ajax’s - body heat. It was getting pretty chilly at night in Colorado and Clint could only hope they moved on quickly.

_But aren’t you going to get anyone to take a look at your chest? It looked like that hurt._

Clint grumbled to himself but didn’t say anything. It figures that Phil would have dreamt of him getting kicked across the stall by Ajax because some lousy circus-goer had spooked the horse who had, in turn, kicked back into Clint.

_At least ask your brother, won’t you?_ Phil implored.

It did hurt. But Barney usually told him to keep his mouth shut and not complain because this was the best they were getting for now and he just had to deal with it. Clint always listened to Barney. Barney was 16 and just knew a lot more about how to survive than Clint did at this point.

_Mind your own business, will ya? Just let me sleep. I’m fine,_ Clint complained once more.

Clint could practically feel the frustration and concern coming from Phil but Phil stayed silent.

It wasn’t until much later, when Clint was nearly asleep, that he heard Phil say quietly, _Be safe._

 

* * *

 

 

It was a few years later that Phil finally had another real scare in his life that directly had to do with his Soulmate, Clint. Phil knew all about the soulmate business. He had been educated early on and had always known that Clint was the one meant for him. But sometimes he felt like Clint didn’t know or didn’t want Phil back. It left Phil to constantly worry over Clint and the situations he saw at night in his dreams and the brief conversations they sometimes got to have. The conversations usually consisted of Phil worrying over Clint and Clint being annoyed with him. For a boy nearly seven years younger than him Clint was pretty snappy.

Phil had recognized the pattern of their communication around the fourth time it happened - they could only speak to each other when one of them was pretty badly hurt or in a lot of pain. It was almost exclusively Clint’s pain that allowed them to talk. Clint always brushed it off but in his dreams Phil could always see the truth about Clint’s pain. The dreams were sometimes distorted from the pain Clint felt and what he saw - as the dreams were always from Clint’s point of view - but it was enough to see that Clint never had a good lot in life.

This time however started with a dream.

The dream started with a searing pain in both legs and his dream self’s eyes flew open and he felt Clint scream. Clint shut his eyes but Phil could feel as Clint got mercilessly beat. And while Phil did all he could to send comforting thoughts he couldn’t see a damn thing with Clint’s eyes closed.

Phil flew out of his bed as he startled awake and paced his quarters. He was a ranger in the army now, for God’s sake, and he still couldn’t do anything to help his soulmate out. He was almost 25 years old now and the pain from his young soulmate was crushing him.

Immediately Phil reached out with his mind to try and contact Clint but all he got was silence. He never got silence after Clint experienced pain. Never. Even if Clint was asleep he could still feel his presence if he reached out in the right way. But there was nothing.

For the next few days Phil was useless. He mindlessly ran drills and missions but he acted on autopilot. He hadn’t even seen his soulmate face to face and he already might have lost him.

 

In the middle of the night on the fourth day Phil heard a weak, _I’m ok._

 

 

* * *

 

 

Clint was 19 years old. Clint was a 19 year old mercenary. Clint was a 19 year old mercenary with no affiliations who only took jobs that he, and he alone, agreed to.

Clint hadn’t agreed to this.

Clint was sitting on a rooftop across a plaza in Brazil with a rifle in front of him sited to two young women - girls. His finger was steady and his line of sight clear. His breathing came in rough pants as he tried to stop himself from sobbing. The gun pressed to the back of his head and another pointed at a little girl behind him stopped him from walking away. He had to do it. He didn’t have any way out of this one. Those girls didn’t deserve to die. But neither did the little girl behind him. And Clint didn’t have a death wish, but if it were between his brains on the roof and those two girls on the sidewalk he would’ve told the man holding the gun to his head to fire away. But he wasn’t the only one at risk anymore.

“Hurry up, you little shithead!” The man holding the gun against his head snarled.

Clint’s breath hiccupped. He was 19 fucking years old. Sure he had killed before, sure he had stolen before, sure he had lied before. But he had never - not once - taken an innocent life. He decided what jobs he took based on an honor code. A twisted one, to be sure, but an honor code nevertheless. He was going to break that code and in doing so he was going to lose himself.

It was the price he would pay for the little girl behind him and the little girl’s family. The little girl deserved everything Clint would never have and more. At this rate if the devil didn’t turn Clint away because he was too wicked already Clint would count himself lucky.

He took the shot and felt himself shatter.

The second the man let the gun up off his head he turned, snapped the neck of the man and shot the man holding the little girl. The little girl, already sobbing ran and Clint dropped to his knees with the sound of screams from the plaza behind him covering his own broken sobs. He was only 19 fucking years old.

_Clint! Are you ok? Talk to me, dammit Clint!_

Clint didn’t consciously answer Phil but knew, from years of experience and general knowledge he had picked up, Phil had probably seen the whole thing and could hear everything Clint was thinking whether he intended Phil to hear it or not.

_I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry - Oh God, kill me, please. Please kill me, kill me, oh God. Help me!_ Clint choked on his breath and coughed. He held his head and sat as the blood from the man he shot slowly pooled around him. He didn’t feel remorse for him. He felt as though he lost every bit of his soul to those two girls he had just killed. _KILL ME DAMMIT._

_CLINT! Clint listen to me!_

Clint was distantly aware of Phil mentally screaming at him, for him, but he put it all on mute as he, on autopilot, picked up his gun, wiped the evidence of his presence, and slipped away, choking on his breath the whole way.

 

He wasn’t aware of himself until the next day, curled up on some cheap motel bed. He couldn’t hear Phil. He couldn’t really feel anything either. He didn’t feel angry or sad anymore. Just kind of empty. He thought that maybe that’s what he deserved for losing his soul.

 

 

* * *

 

  



	2. Clint is a baby and Phil is concerned

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for kind of suicidal thoughts/references. I'm not sure what you want to call it. Basically Clint is an asshole and Phil is concerned.

Being an agent of SHIELD was hardly a glamorous life. Especially when you had yet to raise through the ranks. Phil was only level 5 in SHIELD but he was still young - only 27 years old. And he was sure he would advance quickly. Currently Deputy Director Fury had him running milk run type ops that typically went off without a hitch. They were serving as something to ease him into running ops and learning how to get people to work together the way he wanted them. How to plan and how to foresee every possible roadblock and hiccup. It was to help the higher-ups see what his strengths were and what they thought would be most useful for him to be doing. And if that meant running easy ops on the easternmost edge of Turkey with low risk potential, then that’s what he’d do.

Unfortunately milk runs have an unusual habit of turning to shit.

 _If everyone had just done what they were told this wouldn’t have happened,_ Phil thought viciously. He knew that that wasn’t the correct type of attitude for the senior agent running an op to have but he just couldn’t help it. This was the third op in a row that had blown up in his face and he was getting pissed. Every time something went wrong his team would get shifted around and he wouldn’t hear of certain people ever again, he would write up a incident report on what exactly went wrong, Deputy Director Fury would glower at him as he handed him the paperwork, and Phil would retreat to his quarters to seeth.

This time the operation took a particularly new and exciting left turn into disaster zone which left him two men down, comms barely working, and him running into the line of fire to try and minimize the damage caused and drag out the last two agents still in the field. It was frustrating. It was dirty. It was fucking freezing. It was also painful as hell when he wound up with a bullet grazing his left shoulder, gouging a divot into the muscle there and causing him to stumble as he tried dragging one of his men to safety as the other gave cover fire.

 

As the medic on the team patched them up to the best of her ability when they were back at the safehouse, Phil reached out to Clint. He should be able to hear him. Clint should have been aware of him at this point. If he hadn’t dreamed about him he should at least be able to hear him calling for him.

But Clint was ignoring him.

It had been happening more and more as the years went by. Clint was willfully blocking him out. Phil knew by now that Clint was obviously not a big fan of this whole ‘predestined soulmates’ thing, he just didn’t know why. Phil was a romantic and growing up hearing of soulmates always gave him excited butterflies. He wanted to meet his soulmate. He wanted to make his soulmate happy. He wanted to love and be loved unconditionally in the way that all the soulmate stories go. But life isn’t a fairytale. And his soulmate got hurt all the time. He got hurt all the time. His soulmate was a young, jaded man who wouldn’t even talk to him anymore. Phil hadn’t even met his soulmate face to face yet and he was creeping closer to 30 years old with every year, dammit.

After almost a whole hour of tossing around in his cot in the safehouse, Phil gave up. If Clint was going to acknowledge him, he would’ve by now.

Phil didn’t know which was worse, really: losing his soulmate to death that always seemed to be chasing Clint, or losing him simply because Clint didn’t want him at all.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Clint wasn’t a kid anymore.

He thought he wasn’t a kid when he was with the circus and had escaped his abusive father. He thought he had grown up when Trickshot had mentored him. He thought he was grown when he was a headliner for the circus and was finally - _finally_ \- good for something. He thought he was all grown when he understood betrayal when Barney left him that night with his legs broken and his body near giving up. Clint thought he was an adult when he started out as a mercenary. He thought he was an adult when he learned things hard and fast in the rough business of killing and betraying and money and utter lack of morals. He was still a kid.

But not anymore. He found his place - not with AIM and not with the Russian Mob and not with Doom and not with any other number of people who had tried to pull contracts on him. He was alone. He worked alone. He worked single-contract jobs only. He decided what jobs he accepted and he had a reputation. Unfortunately reputations catch up with you - especially ones claiming you to be the best in the world and one too many angry organizations on your tail looking for payment or for him to work for them.

Clint wasn’t a kid anymore. He knew that Phil worked for SHIELD. He knew that Phil used to be an army ranger. He knew that if Phil and him ever got together Phil would probably be ordered to kill him. And that’s why he ignored Phil. He wanted love. He wanted acceptance. He wanted everything that came with a soulmate. But Phil wanted more than Clint had. Phil deserved more than what Clint had. So Clint did his best to keep Phil out of his mind and to stay out of Phil’s as well.

But all the determination in the world can’t stop dreaming.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Phil looks forward to the nights when he can see Clint. He knows that Clint doesn’t want him and has accepted that fact. But he can’t help but cling to the hope that he’ll change his mind. He wants to take care of his soulmate any way he can and if that just means watching out for him through his dreams then that’s all he can do.

Things have been getting progressively worse for Clint - at least from what Phil can see in his dreams. It had been years since he had last talked to Clint. But he dreams of him frequently and now, with Phil turning 29 and Clint probably 22 or 23, Clint was taking a nosedive. Phil knew Clint was a criminal. He also knew it wasn’t exactly Clint’s first choice. Every night Phil could feel the crippling emptiness that was consuming Clint’s soul and mind. He could feel the hunger clawing at his belly as Clint got thinner, more lean with every passing night. He knew Clint was getting closer and closer to giving up.

After a particularly trying day, with another mission that could barely be counted as a success and another short trip to medical to see his injured agents, he dreamt of Clint again. This time Phil felt real fear dropping like a ton of bricks in his stomach and his throat tighten.

 

In his dream he saw through Clint’s eyes as he sprinted through a town - unidentifiable from Clint’s point of view - breathing raggedly and taking every sharp turn and obstacle he could find. Eventually Clint couldn’t run anymore. He was out of shape from not taking care of himself. In his dream Phil could feel Clint’s aching lungs and the scrapes on his hands and knees.

The men after Clint pushed him up against the wall of an alley that Clint had managed to hole himself up in and Phil could feel the man’s forearm cutting off Clint’s air supply.

“Yvonna wants you to know, little bird, that you have 24 hours,” the man snarled, “and then she’s clipping your wings.”

The pun itself was enough to get Clint to groan even though his trachea was being crushed, but Phil could feel the real fear scraping it’s way through Clint.

“You’re going to work for her or you’re not going to work again. Not for Doom. Not for AIM. Not for Egghead. Not for SHIELD. You work for Yvonna now,” the man ground his arm further into Clint’s throat and Clint choked and gagged, “Do you understand?”

Clint didn’t exactly reply except for a vague choking noise. Apparently satisfied, the man dropped Clint and motioned for the rest of the goons to follow him out of the alley. At the last moment, thinking better of leaving the infamous Hawkeye without an injury, the man turned and shot him in the leg. Clint cried out and Phil could feel the pain mirrored in his own leg.

 

Phil jerked awake and immediately reached out to Clint. He had to listen to him - he could help him.

 _Clint, please_ , Phil thought desperately.

There was no answer but Phil knew Clint could hear him.

_I can help you Clint. Just tell me where you are. You don’t have to deal with this alone, you know! That’s the whole point of Soulmates! Let me help you!_

There was no immediate answer besides the current of pain flowing from Clint’s end from his bullet wound, but after a few tense minutes of Phil maintaining intense contact Clint said, _Stay out of it, Phil._

 _Clint, I know you know who I am. And I know who you are. You’re not saving me from disappointment here. There’s no big reveal. Stop trying to save my delicate sensibilities. I know you’re Hawkeye and I know you know that I’m SHIELD._ Phil thought desperately. He had never been this blunt with Clint before but he needed to make his point. Hawkeye had been coming up on SHIELD’s radar more and more recently - he’s been sloppy. Phil knows why. The reigning order at the time is kill on sight.

There was silence for some time - maybe 45 minutes or an hour but the connection was not lost. Phil closed his eyes and hoped that if he concentrated enough he could see where Clint was. He knew it didn’t usually work that way unless he was asleep but…

_If SHIELD comes for me they’re going to kill me._

Phil breathed a sigh of relief that Clint wasn’t ignoring him again. _I have power here, Clint. I can help you. Let me help you._

 _I don’t want you to help me Phil. Just tell SHIELD to come,_ Clint said.

 _What do you mean?_ Phil thought. If SHIELD was coming to get Clint then they were going to help him. Phil might not be Director but Fury sure was and Fury and he had a lot of history. Phil wasn’t lying when he said he had pull here.

_I mean that if your guys don’t kill me when they come, Yvonna will. Or I will._

 

* * *

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for not getting far tonight, my friends. Break's over. We'll see how this goes. I'm not thinking too many more chapters. Probably two more.  
> I've got some suggestions for AU's and they're hilarious and I'll keep them in mind! Feel free to suggest things!


	3. We're Done!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Look out for mentions of suicide! Other than that we're good.

Phil could see his soulmate through the little window on the door into the SHIELD infirmary room. He wasn’t going to kid himself - Clint looked rough. The report Doctor Mickerny had given him read grimly. Malnourished. Underweight. Bullet wound to the thigh - bad, with lots of blood loss but no permanent damage with lots of physical therapy. An old knife wound in his right shoulder accompanied by angry red cuts around the area. Bruised trachea. Overall: the kid needed help. From what Phil knew, Clint didn’t want his.

Unfortunately for Clint, Phil doesn’t easily give up. Especially not in matters of Soulmates. Phil had talked to Fury and sent a team to retrieve Hawkeye - alive. With medical backup. Clint hadn’t gone easily. He was still conscious when the team came and he fought the whole way to the rendezvous point where he was promptly sedated. When the team arrived back at base, they kept Clint under for surgery to retrieve the bullet in his leg and stitch him back up and now had him lying unconscious in a room hooked up to a few monitors and an IV line.

Phil couldn’t stop looking at him. Finally. Finally! After all this time. Clint was where he should be. Where Phil could protect him. And did Clint need protecting. He had multiple groups of hostiles after him after his last two sloppy years. SHIELD had had a hit on him for the past year and the reigning order to kill on sight spoke volumes. He was dangerous. He was smart. He was hard to catch. No one but Fury knew that he was Phil’s soulmate. Phil planned to keep it that way. But now that Clint was here…

As Phil was watching through the small window, he could see a minute shift. Other than that there had been no change. But Phil knew Clint. Clint was a crafty little bastard when he wanted to be. Phil was willing to bet that Clint was awake and was assessing his current situation. If he didn’t get in there and reassure him, Clint would be up and out before anyone knew any better.

Still. Phil wanted to see. He wanted to observe Clint with his own eyes now that he had the chance. The infamous Hawkeye was right in front of him. His soulmate was right in front of him. He wanted to see what his next move would be. Would Clint immediately run? Did he really abhor the idea of soulmates that much?

As Phil watched, Clint - after an indeterminate amount of time silently assessing the room while feigning sleep - carefully sat up. He swayed but clenched his hands and carefully looked around the room. Just as Phil was sure that Clint was going to stay put, the kid swung his legs around and jumped to the ground - weight on his good leg.

So the kid was aware.

“You’re not the sneakiest operative that ever lived. I know you’re there, Phil.”

Phil shook his head. He knew it was too good to be true. Clint was a talented man who had survived a lot worse than this on pure instinct. Lurking in the doorway wasn’t going to get by him.

“What do you want?” Clint asked after Phil simply stepped into the room silently.

“I want to know what you’re thinking,” Phil said. Clint had survived worse but he must be in pain. He took quite the beating. He must be panicking. He probably didn’t know exactly where he was. He probably didn’t even want anything to do with Phil at present.

Clint just hummed in response and looked around the room as he leaned back against the hospital bed to support his weight.

“I’m thinking SHIELD medical isn’t letting me out of here anytime soon,” he said after while.

Well that answers if he knew where he was.

“Well, you could always sign yourself out against medical advice. But it’s in everyone’s best interest if you stay here for a while, I think.”

Clint gave him a considering look before saying, “Cut the crap, Phil. You know me and I know you so stop acting like I’m some civilian to you. You know damn well what I’m thinking.”

And really. He did know. The last feeling he could perceive through their bond had been absolutely wretched. Clint wanted to stop existing. He had been considering eating his damn gun. Phil knew.

“I know,” he said. And even he could hear the tired desperation in his voice. “But we’re here now and I’m asking you to give me a chance.”

  


 

* * *

 

  


Clint watched silently in the darkness. Phil was still in his sleep, his face slack and mouth slightly open. He was curled towards Clint and cuddled in the big comforter they shared. He watched as Phil dreamt and all Clint could feel was overwhelming love and gratitude. Clint had never known it could be like this. He never knew he could be this happy.

In the predawn light, after their first face to face meeting followed by four years of heavy turbulence due to work at SHIELD and learning each other and navigating each other’s heavy baggage, Clint gently kissed Phil. And when Phil woke up later they kissed again. And again. Because they could and because they wanted to. If there was one thing in the world Clint would never give up - it would be this. It would be Phil. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for sticking with me, guys. It's been a wild ride.

**Author's Note:**

> Send me AU's with pairings because I cannot get enough of them.


End file.
